


Missing You/ D. T. M.

by VKDrabs (valorikei)



Series: Order Neutral RusAme Drabbles [36]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Attempted Murder, Death, M/M, Murder, Snapped!Alfred, Temporary Character Death, This one is actually a favorite of mine, VK Drabs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 18:44:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5138564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valorikei/pseuds/VKDrabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble #96: Pairing Order: RusAme / Rating: T+ / Prompt: Alfred mourns Ivan / WARNING: Contains implied temporary death/murder</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing You/ D. T. M.

"Has it really been  _that_  long?"

Shaking his head slowly, Alfred set his mug of coffee down onto his little table, sighing at the ashen taste lingering in his mouth. Nothing tasted as good anymore, any lingering pleasure derived from meaningless hobbies or exotic sensations dulled when compared to the warmth chilled out of existence in Alfred's house. The cold tiles on the kitchen floor burned through the woolen material of Alfred's socks as he moved towards the sink, listlessly lifting a dirtied plate and a sponge.

Letting the rushing water drown out the droning of the television, Alfred shut his eyes and started to scrub, working the sponge over the smooth surface again and again… Back and forth, circling over and over the same spots as if his sponge were carrion crows lingering around a fresh cadaver.

The thought stopped Alfred from moving any further, freezing him up in his tracks. The television crackled, the wind outside messing with his connection as the reports continued to prattle on. " _The nation itself is in chaos now, politicians are struggling to maintain order as crime rates continue to skyrocket. The American plan has been making some progress, but is it going to be enough? We have never seen anything like this happen within our history, not a single person has come forward as to the whereabou–"_

Alfred's hand shook from how much strength he put into pressing the 'off' button of the television remote, his whole body quivering uncontrollably as he stared at the black screen, the lack of light darkening the already dim room. The storm clouds outside didn't help at all, of course… "You always loved the storms, didn't you?" he lamented quietly to himself, sighing deeply as he relaxed again, setting the remote on the countertop. He went back to his dishes, a small and melancholy smile on his face as he cleaned up. "Gave you a good excuse to stay inside, curled up by the fireplace with a good book…"

Looking back at his living room, Alfred smiled forlornly at the empty pit, a little pile of ashes under the log stand remaining undisturbed since the last time he had used it… Ivan always was the one to clean up things like that, after all. He always took care of the little things Alfred struggled to remember. Well.

At least Alfred didn't need those little things anymore. He could handle being alone. Four months in and he just started thriving again, able to function and work just as he used to, maybe even better! Brightening up again, Alfred couldn't help it when his smile cracked in places, white teeth like shining pearls in his mouth as he went back to the kitchen window, looking out upon his garden.

"I miss you so much," he mumbled softly, shivering at the words as the escaped him, falling into the empty space like tear drops of paper, warping it as they spread out in rippling waves. Wrapping his arms around himself, Alfred quivered like the tall sunflowers blown by the wind in his garden, desperately pretending they weren't his own, that his love stood behind him and was the one to hold him so… "I miss your arms around me, I miss your voice in my ear, I miss that little smile you only shared with  _me…_ "

Well. The smile that he was  _supposed_  to share with  _only_  him _…_ But that was another matter. Completely irrelevant.

He looked out into the garden before he couldn't bare to look at it any longer, hurrying back to his living room. Magazines and newspaper clippings lay strewn about on the glass table, little pieces collected over the months of headlines and worried quotes.  _'Russia: Personification missing, nation in turmoil', 'Still no news of Russia, possible hostage situation under discussion', 'America rises in the absence of Russia', 'World War III? Where is Russia?'_ and other similar titles caught Alfred's eyes as he skimmed them over and over, the words a wash of pain in his mind as he let them soak into his empty heart, letting them fill him.

"Oh, Vanya… everybody misses you so much," he murmured thoughtfully as he picked up a framed photograph he kept on top of the media mess, staring at it for a moment before slowly tracing his thumb over the glass. Ivan's breathless smile full of wonder and innocence immortalized in a single picture Alfred had taken during one of their many dates, from when he took his love to their favorite field of sunflowers in the middle of summer, Ivan blending in well among the gorgeous plants. Smiling back at his love, Alfred set the photograph down on the table again. "But  _no one_ misses you as much as I do, do they, Vanya? After all, I have to fill in your shoes now. They may be big, but I'll grow into them… I'll have to if I want to make this work…"

The wind rattled against the door in the entryway, and on some whim Alfred perked and went to check it, looking out through the peephole into the darkness. Frowning, he squinted when something caught his eye, but he couldn't see very well through the little glass. Unlocking his door, he let it blow open before shutting it again, the wind howling at him like barking dogs at the gates of hell. Narrowing his eyes, Alfred ventured out around the back towards his shed, heading inside to grab his shovel.

Approaching the little patch of dirt where he had planted his sunflowers, Alfred quirked his lips to one side, watching the ground shift and tremble as something moved beneath the surface. He watched, his forlorn melancholy from earlier dwindling as the earth broke apart, a pale hand pushing its way to the surface like one of the sunflowers before scrabbling at the dirt, struggling to push it aside as soon another emerged, both clutching and clawing as Alfred's face drew up in an angry snarl.

Gasping for breath, Ivan struggled to pull himself out of the ground, spitting up dirt and coughing as he struggled to save himself from that nightmarish hell. Eyes straining from being reintroduced to light, he grunted and heaved, legs and arms and everywhere else heavy from another forced regeneration. Groaning pitifully, he shuddered and looked up when he realized someone was standing in front of him. Alfred slung his shovel up over both of his shoulders, resting his wrists over the shaft as he crouched down, looking Ivan right in the face as his lover gasped and struggled to get out of the dirt even faster, panic written all over his face.

"Ivan, haven't we talked about this?" Alfred hissed at him, eyes narrowed as he slowly stood up again, Ivan struggling for words with his sore and hoarse throat. Alfred removed his shovel from his shoulders before fisting his hand into Ivan's ashen locks, yanking on them and making his lover shout in pain as Alfred tried to rip him out of the ground like a weed. "How am I supposed to miss you when you keep coming back? Every hero has a tragic past. You're my tragedy, Vanya. I'm supposed to let go of you so that  _I_  can be the hero everyone needs with you gone. Here I was, wrapped in my misery and finally feeling like maybe I could move on from you, but, no, you just  _had_  to dig yourself out,  _again_. I don't know how many more times this is going to take, but you need to learn your place. _In the ground._ "

"A-Alik, _please_ , st-stop this. You don't have to do this!" Ivan croaked out the whimpering and begging plea, his body too starved of nutrients to even produce tears as Alfred dropped him to the dirt, raising his shovel up over his head in a slow, drawn out way. Eyes wide and smile cracked even wider, Alfred choked out a broken laugh, trembling as he looked upon his love.

"You're  _dead_  to me, Ivan. Just let me mourn you in peace," he chuckled softly, looking down at the red-stained dirt, all of his sunflowers collapsed from how much Ivan has upset the peaceful dirt. His love didn't stir the dirt any longer, not even when Alfred shoveled it back over his face, laying him to rest right where all tragic cheating pasts belonged. Ivan truly was the villain in this case, even if he insisted on protesting that Alfred had been wrong about what happened. Naturally Alfred knew he was right, and, naturally, as the hero, Alfred needed to vanquish his enemies, even if burying them six feet under the dirt left an empty and lonely feeling in his already broken heart. The hero's path proved constantly to be a difficult one, but Alfred knew he could walk it with dignity and righteousness.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you enjoyed this please!


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